Burn For Me
by Crimson Tiger
Summary: Two twins crash at a friend's house and engage in... illicit activities. But what happens when that friend comes home early? *wink wink* This is an experiment in yaoi.
1. One MacManus, Two MacManus

**BURN FOR ME**

**AN:** So, I just watched the Boondock Saints and I wanted to mess with the characters. I hope you enjoy the first installment of the two-part fic! ^.^

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The room was sparsely furnished, lit clearly by the midday sun streaming through two windows. The only sounds that could be heard were muffled groans, rustling sheets and the squeaking of the metal frame straining to support two bodies.

Murphy straddled Connor, his calloused hands expertly gliding up and down the blonde's body, lingering on places that tore moans and heady pleas from the taut lips. Smirking at his success, Murphy leaned down and whispered, "Not yet love, not yet."

Connor 's lips instantly parted at the endearment and hissed, white teeth flashing clearly behind puffy lips, "You bastard!" He could only wiggle against the bed, arms pulled up above his head and restrained with soft cotton ties. His worn jeans and tight hunter green t-shirt did nothing to relieve him of the ache between his legs. He moaned out, searching for the only touch that could bring him to glorious highs, or mercilessly torture him with languid strokes.

Murphy laughed, a quick sound in a quiet room. "Aye, but that would make you one too." Reaching in front of him, his right hand gently traced Connor's face. The blue eyes were clouded with arousal, frustration and love. The blond hair had fallen flat, the gel long gone. Sweat gently trailed down the sides of his face, accenting high cheekbones and pooling down his shirt, hinting at the muscle Murphy knew too well lay beneath the surface. The tobacco-stained fingers clenched and unclenched, the tanned skin a sharp contrast to the white cloth restraining them. The two knew that Connor could remove himself from the knots if he wanted too, but this was part of their game. One would control, removing the other from a position of power, dominating, bringing out their need for the slow pace, languid burning of flesh against flesh before the other would switch.

Murphy then brought his left hand down quickly, cupping the feel of smooth steel through denim before pressing gently at first, then harder. Connor bucked, a sign that he was close, too close to release for Murphy's comfort, and Murphy moved his hands upwards, tearing apart the shirt.

Connor hissed as the cool air rushed over his chest. The intoxicating cool against burning skin made his head spin. _Too much, too much!_ His eyes began to roll back into his head as Murphy lay butterfly kisses along his jaw, followed by an insistent tongue to his pierced nipples.

Murphy began to rock back and forth, hoping for relief, as his expert tongue painted a trail of all Connor's weaknesses._ Dammit, this man is killin' me!_

So entranced was he in the feel of Connor's skin, Murphy didn't notice the change in Connor's position until it was too late. "What the—" Murphy barely started the question before he was pinned down by Connor. Somehow, in the past few moments, Connor had slipped out of the ties, and pounced.

Smirking widely, Connor looked down at Murphy. A scowl was present on the brunette's face, while his hair now stood at odds and ends. Sweat had darkened parts of his dark grey shirt, while faded torn jeans covered legs that lead upwards to a glorious chest.

Connor purred. "Isn't this such a nice change, brother of mine?" He couldn't help but notice that Murphy, always in his same manner, tensed at being called his brother during this time, only to shove it aside and focus on receiving touches, caresses and rough kisses.


	2. Chastity

AN: Here's Chapter 2! This will actually be a 3-Part fic, as I realized introducing my OC and setting up the situation would take more than one chapter, since I don't really want to rush it. Thanks!

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Chastity grimaced as she hiked up the stairs of her apartment, fumbling only once as her battered and over-filled suitcase threatened to tumble down yet another flight of stairs. _Ah, Lord, why did I agree to go see ma and Nan right before St. Patrick's Day? I'll be working double shifts tonight! _She stopped in front of her apartment, pausing only to note that the lock had been jimmied, again.

_Lord, when will those two just use the key I gave them?_ Chastity shook her head. In the five years she'd known the MacManus brothers, starting with the day she'd gone to apologize for her sister's actions, she'd never known them to follow the rules or be quite courteous. _But that's understandable….Rosie DID kick Connor in the balls._

She stifled her giggle at the memory, Connor opening the door and standing in shock once he realized that the 5' 7" brunette was the younger sister of Rosengurtle, who'd not only lost her job on the first day, but left a rather… firm impression of herself.

Chastity slid the door open, shouldering her suitcase and walked in, prepared to give the twins a long, well deserved heckling speech about damaging her third lock in two months, when she saw them.

They lay on her bed, underneath the largest window in the tiny loft. She loved that spot, since the feeling of sunlight warmed her, and she could imagine being, enveloped in their love for her. She wasn't blind, realizing that while Connor's blonde hair gave him a slightly more angelic expression, his attitude was anything but. Murphy's devilish expression only covered up his religious attitude, never revealing the fact that he was actually a stricter Catholic than Connor.

The mid-afternoon sun, shone directly through the window and onto the twins. Murphy lay half across Connor's bare chest, his usually pale skin infused with a light glow. Connor's hair glimmered in the sunlight while his arms wrapped around Murphy. If it wasn't for the fact that Chastity had a sneaking suspicion they were naked (evidence: clothing strewn over the floor, and a semi-transparent sheet covering them from the waist down), she would have said they were angels.

As it was, she stared at them intently, studying each scar and tattoo, wondering about how soft their skin would be (or if their calluses weren't limited to just their hands), not noticing that they'd awakened, until Connor's lilting voice called out. "Enjoying the show love?"

Chastity's eyes flew upward, her lips widening into an "o" as her cheeks burned. It was at times like these that she cursed her pale skin. She knew that if there was a mirror around, her brown hair would be flopping down from its ponytail (_Or she'd drag it down_, she thought grimly) to hide the deep pink roses that spread across her skin. Connor remained on his back, his arms folded in front of Murphy to light the cigarette in his hand. Murphy had shifted, so that his back was against the wall, slowly puffing on his own cigarette, the smoke dancing in the golden sunlight, while his right hand idly traced a design on the sheet. Both stared at her with hooded eyes, tired out from the sex and willing her to speak, wanting to know.

Chastity froze. What was there to say? She'd known that they'd loved each other, ever since that time she'd walked into the bathroom of McGinty's and seen Murphy furiously kissing Connor in the mirror. While the thought of two brothers should have disgusted her religious sensibilities, she found herself caring too much about the brothers to cut herself off from any relation with them. Besides, they were regulars at the bar and favorites of Doc's. To suddenly become distant would invite more questions.

And it wasn't as if they could just pick up any girl. She'd known, from the first television broadcast, from the first time they'd limped to her, covered in blood and needing stitches (because Doc couldn't, just couldn't be told for his own safety), that they were the Saints, that they were the ones responsible for killing the scum that lined their town's streets every day.

As it was, she realized there was only one thing to say. "Couldn't you've done it somewhere other than my bed? Say, the floor?" She set down her suitcase, crossed her arms and stared, her arms pushing upwards and her panties feeling more than a little soaked. Chastity narrowed her hazel eyes in what she hoped was a frustrated glare.

Whatever the boys had expected her to say, it certainly wasn't this. Murphy gaped, while Connor's eyes widened and the cigarette he'd been about to take a drag from froze in midair.

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AN: Yeah, kinda short, but it sets it up!


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